


Lust

by imissmaeberry



Series: Forgive Me Father [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Demons, Cheating, Dirty Talk, F/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Seven Deadly Sins, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:45:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16817230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imissmaeberry/pseuds/imissmaeberry
Summary: some people say "the devil finds work for idle hands." the same can be said for idle hearts





	Lust

“and i promise to love you, and only you, for the rest of my life.” the words slip easily over your tongue, of course they do, _because you mean them_. 

“do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, so long as you both shall live?” the priest asks, voice reverberating through the church. 

you smile up through your tears at the man you love more than you thought yourself capable of. the look on his face is similar to how you imagine your own to look: affectionate, awed, full of love. 

“i do.”

“and do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, so long as you both shall live?”

your almost-husband nods and lets out a watery chuckle. “i do.”

“i now pronounce you husband and wife. you may kiss the bride.”

your husband leans down and presses his mouth to yours, and you’ve never, ever been so happy.

on your way out of the church you happen to glance across the street, and you lock eyes with a man who’s dressed, you think, for a wedding. he smiles and you feel your heart start to pound, and you feel like you can’t take your eyes off of him. your husband calls your name and breaks your trance, and you smile at him shyly as he pulls you into the limousine. 

you glance over your shoulder, just for a second while your husband searches for the champagne. the man across the street is gone.

you find yourself hoping you’ll see him again.

* * *

your honey moon goes smoothly, the man from after the wedding pushed quickly from your mind as you and your husband spend two weeks on a tropical beach far, far away from your home. 

when you two return, you and your husband settle easily into married life. you’d already been living together for almost two years, the only difference now being the rings the both of you wore, the way you happily called each other “my husband,” and “my wife.”

you don’t think about the man from the wedding for nearly a year - about nine months after you’ve tied the knot, you see him again. 

you’re sitting in a cafe with a friend, chatting happily about her recent engagement, when he comes through the door and sends a smirk your way when he sees you. you find yourself stopping mid-sentence, your head moving along with your gaze as the man moves through the cafe towards the counter. 

your friend follows your gaze, brow furrowed. “do you _know_ him?” she asks, concern coloring her voice. 

“i - i - no, i don’t, he just seems...familiar.” you fight to get the words out, because you _don’t_ know him, had only seen him once before, and telling her that he’d caused your heart to stutter as you’d gotten into your marriage limo with your brand new husband didn’t seem like a very good idea.

“then why is he coming over here?”

you look up from your drink to find she’s right - the man is approaching your table, coffee in hand, grin on his face practically luminous. 

“hello, ladies.” he greets you, voice smooth and deep in a way you weren’t expecting. “how are you today?”

“ _taken_.” you friend says harshly, every bit of her body coiled tight and tense. 

you find yourself feeling mildly entranced, however, and lightly tap her arm. “don’t be so _rude_.” you turn to him and smile graciously. “we’re doing quite well, thank you....?”

“oh.” he says, and laughs, and you feel your cheeks heat up. “my name is soonyoung. it’s a pleasure to...meet you.”

soonyoung is beautiful up close. almost hauntingly so. the mere glimpse of him you’d seen nearly a year ago had hinted at that. but now that he’s here, you’re easily lured into stupidity by the way he seems to glow. you find yourself twirling your hair around and finger without meaning to.

“it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” you say, tone sticky sweet, and you can feel your friend’s eyes boring holes into you, but can’t find it in you to care. 

soonyoung doesn’t seem to care much either. he stays and talks to you for another ten or so minutes, even as your friend remains cold and silent towards the two of you. 

when he leaves you can feel her grip your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin. “you’re _married.”_ she reminds you, voice a tight, firm line. 

“so what?” you shrug. “getting married doesn’t mean you can’t have conversations with other men, you know. if you’re under the impression it does, maybe you should hold off your engagement.”

she gasps, and retracts her arm as if stung. “if you think that was just a _conversation_ , you’re sorely mistaken. i won’t say anything, but i sure as hell hope you can put this behind you. i hope you never see _that man_ again. you’ll be better off.” she sighs and her tone softens. “just. just _be careful_. please. he loves you so much. don’t throw that away.”

you nod your head. you know your husband loves you. he’s loved you since the two of you were only teenagers. 

but whenever your mind drifts to soonyoung, you’re not sure how much you care.

you start to see him more and more - somehow, never when your husband is around, always when you are alone. you always chat - that’s what you tell yourself it is. you never admit that you’re flirting, because that’s too close to a line you’d never thought you’d cross.

until one day, a little over a month before your one year marriage anniversary, it does. 

things have been...trying, at home. your husband is as sweet as he always has been, cooking you dinners after long days, bringing you flowers, holding you close and telling you how much he loves you constantly. 

somehow it only serves to annoy you, and you’re not sure _why_. why his affections are starting to drive you up the wall. 

so you find yourself alone in a bar on a thursday night. you told your husband you’d be at a friend’s for a wine night, to not expect you home because you’d just go straight to work from her home, had packed a change of clothes and everything. you figured you could stay in a cheap motel for the night. 

you wonder if you should be surprised when you see soonyoung come into the bar after you’ve started on drink three. your eyes narrow at him in mock-suspicion, and when he sits down next to you, you accuse him, “i think you’re following me.”

he laughs and the bartender hands him a drink. you raise your eyebrow, “do you come here so often? got a regular drink?”

he smirks. “i just have a way with people, you could say. what are you drinking, sweetheart?”

you perk up at the pet name despite yourself. “vodka cranberry.” you down the rest of the drink in front of you as he signals the bartender to bring you another. 

“so tell me, sweetheart, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a bar on a weeknight?” something in the tone of his voice goes straight to your core, sends delightful shivers down your spine. 

“didn’t feel like staying at home.” is all you say. the alcohol in your system already tempts your tongue to tell him more, to tell him _everything_ , but you manage to restrain yourself.

“is he treating you so poorly?” soonyoung asks knowingly. your gaze flits over to him, eyebrows raised, and he chuckles. “you’re _taken_ , remember? your friend was very clear about that.”

you roll your eyes. “he’s treating me fine. better than fine, he treats me _so well,_ because he loves me. I couldn’t ask for more.”

“and yet?”

“and yet i’m here.” you sigh. 

“does he _bore_ you, sweetheart? do you want something _exciting_?” 

you know exactly what he’s offering. you know that he’s offering it in simple, easy to reject terms.

“let me give that to you.”

“i don’t...” you bite your lip. “i shouldn’t. he loves me. i...i love him. i do. this is just a rough patch.”

“is it, sweetheart?” he’s moved from the stool next to you so that he’s standing, turning your stool so that your body is facing his. “look at me and tell me you don’t want what i have to offer.”

you can’t. he’s right. your life with your husband has started to bore you, and instead of doing the right thing and simply communicating this, you find yourself following soonyoung into the bar’s bathroom.

you follow him into the stall and sink down to your knees, quickly pulling his cock from his slacks and taking it sloppily into your mouth. he groans appreciatively, smooth voice mumbling praise at the way you sink down on to him. 

“you were made to take my cock, weren’t you sweetheart? i bet your husband doesn’t fill your mouth as nicely as i do.” 

you groan as his cock hits the back of your throat, and you shake your head. truthfully, you’re having trouble remembering what your husband even looks like at the moment, let alone what his cock feels like in your mouth. but if soonyoung says his is better, you’re going to believe him. 

“do you want me to fuck you, sweetheart? can you stand or are you legs that weak from how wet i make your little cunt?” he smirks and reaches a hand to grab in your hair, pulling you off of his cock so harshly you gasp.

but you _love_ it. 

“please.” you beg, already hiking your dress up your hips. “please fuck me, soonyoung, i - i - i _need_ it.”

“oh sweetheart.” his tone is dark as he leans down to kiss your mouth, and he slides your dress down your shoulders to expose your shoulders and chest. his mouth moves to lick and bite at the new skin, and you whimper at him not to leave marks.

“so you want to do this, but you don’t want him to know, is that it?”

“o-of course i don’t want him to know. this -” you heave a breath as soonyoung pulls your bra down as well and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “this is a one time thing. just gotta get it out of my system and then i’ll talk to him. and we’ll be fine.”

soonyoung only hums, biting down on your nipple before releasing it and ordering you to spread your legs. you do as he asks, and he pushes you against the bathroom wall, nipples pressing into the cold tile as he lines up and pushes his cock inside. you gasp and whine at the stretch, nails attempting to dig into the tile of the wall.

“fuck, _fuck,_ more soonyoung, please, fuck me, _fuck_ me.” you beg, hips pushing back into his. 

he wraps a hand in your hair and pulls until your head is nearly leaning against his shoulder and his mouth is attached to your neck, and does just that. 

when you finish, and stumble out of the bathroom to pay your tab, soonyoung is still attached to your neck by his lips. “why don’t you let me take you somewhere so we can continue, pretty girl?”

you let him.

over and over, multiple times a week, you let him. 

soonyoung quickly becomes an addiction. every time you begin to think about him, he appears, whispering words of filth into your ears to lull you into complacency, to drag you into a bathroom or a motel to have his way with you. 

he fucks you so good, and so often, and he always teases you for being addicted to his cock. you never respond because you know that it’s true. 

things start escalating quickly. you can no longer stand your husband’s touch, the way he says your name, especially when he calls you sweetheart, and deep down you hate yourself for it. 

but not enough to stop.

not enough to bother cleaning yourself up after your trysts with soonyoung, returning home to your husband with your pussy still full of soonyoung’s cum, makeup still smudged and smeared, lips still swollen. 

your husband, if he notices, doesn’t say anything. just rolls over on the bed as you make your way into the shower.

you’re seeing more of soonyoung then you are of him lately, anyway. 

you wonder if you should leave him. would seeing with soonyoung be as exciting without the knowledge of your husband waiting at home?

you try to bring the subject up to soonyoung, who laughs. “it’s more fun to do the wrong thing, isn’t, sweetheart? it’s not as sinful and fun if you don’t have anyone waiting at home to worry over you.”

he’s right. the sin and the excitement of it would be gone. so you stay. 

you wonder a hundred times if you should be more concerned with how your husband feels, but then soonyoung will kiss you again, drive his cock in harder, and the thought will be pushed from your mind.

everything seems - well, not _fine_ , but soonyoung always manages to lull you into a sense of security, so you feel at ease taking things farther.

bringing soonyoung into your home. into your bed, the one you on occasion share with the man you thought you loved. 

he has your legs folded up against your chest, pounding into you mercilessly, growling in your ear, “you really don’t care anymore, do you, sweetheart? bringing me into this bed? it almost feels like you _want_ him to know. is that it?” he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him.

“do you want him to see me fuck you like the little slut you are?”

you find yourself nodding, even though you aren’t sure that it’s true. you _are_ sure that it’s what soonyoung wants to hear, especially when he starts to fuck you impossibly harder, pulling screams and moans from your throat.

if soonyoung hears the front door slam shut, he doesn’t care, because he continues. you’re too lost in your own head to hear it, to hear your husband’s thudding footsteps as they come closer to the bedroom. you don’t hear anything until you hear the bottle crash over soonyoung’s head and glass sprays everywhere, little nicks appearing on your skin. 

soonyoung is ripped away from you and that’s when you see him - your husband standing there with his hands wrapped around soonyoung’s neck, face red and the veins popping clearly in his neck. 

“so this is him, huh? is his dick so fucking good you couldn’t wait one day, you whore? you couldn’t at _least_ wait until after our one year anniversary? you couldn’t pretend for one _fucking day_ that you even give a shit about me?”

you’re not sure why, until this very moment, the weight of what you and soonyoung had been doing took so long to settle in. you’d thought about it, sure, but only ever fleetingly. you’d never considered the consequences. 

something about soonyoung had possessed you. you’re not sure in what sense, what it was about him that had drawn you in and dulled your capacity to deal with the sweet ways your husband handled you. 

“let him go. this is between us.” you mumble, pulling the sheets up around your body, ashamed. 

your husband looks crazed, but he listens and throws soonyoung from his grip. “i don’t wanna see you again, you piece of shit. i’d sooner see you in hell.”

soonyoung, blood dripping down the sides of his neck and face from where the bottle had smashed into it, smirks, and suddenly the blood and all the broken glass is gone. his wound is healed, and within a second he stands before you both fully clothed in a slick suit. his hair slicked back, you notice two tiny protrusions from his forehead, and your body is cold and still with fear. 

two horns stick out from his forehead, and his ears and teeth are scarily pointed. he dusts off his shoulder and turns to your husband. “with those anger issues, my friend, i have no doubt that i’ll be seeing you there. and you, of course, sweetheart.” soonyoung smirks, bows, and disappears. 

your husband turns to you, eyes bulging. “were - did he -” he stumbles over his words until he eventually gets out his suspicions that if soonyoung was the demon he’d appeared to be, maybe you’d just been possessed this whole time. nothing had been your fault. things could be fixed, the two of you would be fine. 

“yes,” you mumble, tears falling full and quickly down your face. “yes, of course, that must be it. i’m so sorry.” 

“no, baby, it’s not your fault. why don’t we get you cleaned up, huh?” your husband’s hands are gentle, and you can’t help but think how you don’t deserve such a touch. 

after all, while soonyoung may have had you spell-bound by his beauty, you’re acutely aware of the fact that you’d consciously made every decision to betray the man leading you into your bathroom and running you a bath. not once had you felt a strong desire to resist him, not once had soonyoung needed to truly compel you into anything. you had gone along all too willingly. 

the sin had entirely been yours. soonyoung had only presented you with the opportunity to commit it.

**Author's Note:**

> as always come chat with me about svt [@blushyseokcheol](https://blushyseokcheol.tumblr.com)


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